Exitus Acta Probat
by Celsius009
Summary: In the grim darkness of the future, it's the actions and sacrifices of soldiers whose stories aren't told that enable mankind to take its final gasps.
1. Exordium offero terminus

**Chapter I: Exordium offero terminus**

Inquisitor Aracio stood quietly before the holograms of the planet rotating before him, occasionally tracing a long finger along a mountain range or crater and muttering to himself. The room was silent save for the thrum of keystrokes from the servitor standing behind him, recording his every motion on the inexhaustible roll of scrolls stored within his metal chassis.

Aracio was used to his new shadow by now. It was assigned to him after "repeated use of questionable methods to achieve objectives," and now followed him everywhere he went, empty eyes staring blankly ahead. To say Aracio enjoyed the attention would be a misinterpretation, but after the last incident involving the death of billions on a hive world the Inquisition had been keeping a closer eye on him. Aracio didn't mind, he grew up dodging bureaucracy's red tape to meet the goals set before him; the only difference now was that he could very well lose his life along with his position.

It never fazed him. He'd already given his life to the Imperium, to mankind – it no longer belonged to him. The day he stopped working for the good of the imperium was the day it discarded him as a tool.

He let out a sigh and brought a hand to his temple, running a finger along the rim of his hood and staring through the green projections without really seeing them, contemplating the task before him. He chanced a glance behind him, eyeing the pasty flesh visible between the gaps of the servitor's machinery with distaste and earning the parchment a frantic spasm of keystrokes. He turned away and gritted his teeth. It would be nearly a decade before he could sleep without the thing standing beside him, lidless eyes watching balefully.

Heavy footsteps sounded outside the door before it slid open to reveal a giant of a man, foot-thick armour adding surprisingly little to his bulk. He stood almost two feet taller than the Aracio but bowed his head, to the extent the neck of his armour would allow, as he entered.

"I trust the astartes are ready for battle." Aracio greeted, returning the nod and facing the holograms again.

The man stared at him, unsure if that was meant to be a joke of some kind, before nodding again. "The adeptus astartes are at the disposal of the inquisition." He stated, watching the inquisitor.

Aracio again found himself staring through the same spot on the map. _'Aren't we all...'_

The man noticed the spot on the map. "Is that the location?" He asked, tapping the panels in front of them and enlarging the projection.

"Yes," Aracio said simply, "that site is our objective."

The space marine pulled out to a broader view of the surrounding area, tapping on several locations where the land abruptly jutted out from the landscape. "Is that where the xenos–?"

He was interrupted as the door slid open again and several more power-armored giants moved into the room, followed by an imperial officer.

"I trust this debriefing will tell me something the file couldn't?" the flustered man asked, looking very small beside the other space marines. "I have evacuations to oversee, lives to save..."

"What we do or don't save will be irrelevant if I fail." Aracio said, gesturing for the others to sit around the circular table in the center of the dim room. When they did so, he continued, "As you all know, the Tyranid have besieged the planet. In a matter of days, it will be lost; that much is inevitable."

He let this sink in, noticing a few of the marines moving restlessly in their seats.

"However this planet is also the site of a powerful chaos artifact." He added, prodding the spot on the map before him and circling the site where it was located.

"Why was this not destroyed when found?" The officer spoke up, frowning at the inquisitor. It was plain this man had little experience in dealing with the inquisition and had only attended due to protocol.

"Because we've yet to find a way to damage the structure; it is impervious to every method we've employed against it." Aracio answered, zooming in so to make visible the damage to the area around the shrine, yet not a stone out of place on it.

"Why does this matter?" A marine asked, voice mechanized through his helmet.

"The shrine is reacting. To this," Aracio said, dragging the view of the map to a nearby area. It was a Tyranid digestion pool, great ponds of thick green acid bubbling. "As the Tyranid swarms deposit their… 'cargo' into the pool, the released souls are passing through the shrine. I don't know how much longer before it becomes an active gateway for the warp itself."

"If we destroyed the digestion pool…?" Another marine asked, trailing away and waiting for Aracio to finish.

"It would prove a temporary solution. Sooner or later the Tyranid will take the area again, and when they do the death of everything around it will be more than enough to activate the shrine." Aracio said, making a swiping motion in the air and causing the green planet to dissipate, making the room very dark.

"Could we use that to our advantage? Unleash our foe upon another?" The officer suggested, looking around to see what made the room so deathly silent. His eyes eventually fell on the inquisitor.

Aracio's face was hidden by his hood, but his mouth was visible as he spoke. "What you speak is heresy, Officer Collins." He hissed, stepping behind the circle of chairs and moving behind the man's. "Only a fool or a heretic willingly opens the gates to oblivion; 'the difference between heresy and treachery is ignorance'…" He stopped behind the officer's chair, resting a hand on his shoulder as his other dipped down to draw the laspistol from the sitting man's belt. "Tell me Collins, are you ignorant?"

"Y-Yes." The man named Collins answered, sitting rigidly in his chair as his own laspistol rested on his shoulder, knowing full well the consequences of the alternative answer.

Aracio leaned over to whisper into his ear, "Then I will make this clearer for you. If I even hear whispers of corruption within any platoon you've ever commanded, I will ensure you are thrown into the Eye of Terror, _personally_." He let the weapon drop down into the owner's lap. "Are we understood?"

Collins nodded and closed his eyes, knowing from stories that he'd just come off very, very easy.

"I have examined this mission from every possible viewpoint, do not waste my time making more suggestions or asking questions. The object of chaos cannot be destroyed, moved, or ignored. It must be deactivated before it reaches the threshold of souls." Aracio spoke aloud to the room. "And the longer we stand idle the stronger the Tyranid forces grow on the planet."

"We pull our forces from planet defense to secure the grounds for you, you're able to disable it?" The first marine who entered asked.

"With some help, yes, that is my intention." Aracio stated.

"And I trust you've come without any support, relying on others to supply your needs?" The last marine spoke in a deep voice, eyeing the inquisitor sternly.

For the first time in a long time, Aracio smiled. "Inquisitors always have support." He turned back to the control panels and began typing. "Mission begins when we reach Ktar V, dismissed."

_

* * *

_

Floating in empty space half a light-year away a sleeper pod suddenly changed direction to make towards a nearby planet.

Inside the machinery chirped to life as the data streams began to feed information through the wires leading into a skull-shaped helmet.


	2. Reproba hostilis

**Chapter II: Reproba hostilis**

Battle brother Demarcus breathed in deeply to calm himself. It was hardly the first battle he'd entered – all initiates survived countless battles in dozens of wars before being awarded power armor. It was just the first battle he'd entered with the honor of bearing his own armor. He looked around the drop pod to the members of tactical squad, all of whom sat silently as the pod began shaking violently.

"Drop pod zero-four entering the atmosphere now." The cool voice of a machine spoke to the silent chamber. "Impact in thirty-seven seconds."

He breathed in again. It wasn't the fear of death that made him uneasy. All marines trained for twenty hours every day they weren't in battle, fear of death had left shortly after induction to the adeptus astartes. It was the anxiety of proving himself on the field of battle.

As though sensing his thoughts, the marine beside him slapped his chest plate. It was Bael, the only other initiate from his first day of recruitment that'd survived long enough to get his armor as well. "With faith in the Emperor guiding our actions, and the brother beside us lending their strength, we shall not falter."

Demarcus looked at him. Though the battle helmet betrayed no emotion of its occupant, he could tell his old friend was smiling. That was one of the innumerable quotes they were required to learn from day one, and Bael's favorite to recite.

"We shall not falter." Demarcus repeated, gripping his boltgun tighter with newfound resolution.

"Showing impact site now." The machine voice announced. An image of the ground below the pod flashed on the walls inside. It looked as though they were about to crash into a large river or sea, but upon closer inspection they could see pockets of humans, some marines, some imperial guard fighting to stave off the ocean. Each marine quickly examined the situation to see where they were needed most upon landing. A flash of movement later a dark shape with wings tried moving under the drop pod and the feed to the ground was cut off in static.

"Bael," Sergeant Knossus called from the other side of the pod, "Move to hatch three when we land. Remember brothers, target the larger synapse creatures first; they hold control over the lesser beasts."

A moment later each marine was pushed further into their seats as the drop pod smashed into the ground. They barley reached their feet when the hatches blew, nearly blinding them with sunlight. Their visors adjusted instantly to the light change and it took every ounce of Demarcus' training not to stand in awe of the sight before him.

It _was_ an ocean before them, one not made of water but bodies. Most had never seen a live Tyranid before and the sight was an ugly one. A vague cross between insect and reptile, their bony exoskeleton shone in the late afternoon sun as their sharp teeth gnashed, making loud clicking sounds.

Bael passing before him snapped him back to his senses. The marine moved down the ramp, hefting his flamer to shoulder height and unleashing a gout of red fire. The beasts screamed as nearly two dozen were immolated before the mass turned to focus on this new threat.

Demarcus remembered "short, controlled bursts" being a major emphasis with rapid-fore weapons, but he wasn't certain that applied to Tyranid. His finger never left the trigger since moving down the ramp and almost every shell had equated a kill. Firing into the crowd before him was a guaranteed hit when the enemy forces were without number. He wasn't even sure how someone was to find one of the larger Tyranid with all attention being given to keeping the smaller ones at bay.

One of the quicker, scythe-armed Tyranid leapt from the crowd before them straight for Demarcus. With heightened reflexes he brought his boltgun up and pulled the trigger – a split second later the shell punched through the ribcage before detonating and showering them all with purple ichor. He grinned to himself and dropped the clip to reload when another beast came from the same direction, pouncing on him before he had a chance to brace himself.

He struggled with the Tyranid, trying to grab hold of its arms as it rained sharp blows on his helmet like a jackhammer, rocking his head around violently. Suddenly he saw a pair of hands appear by the its head, not hesitating a second to come together and snap its neck in one swift motion.

"Back on your feet brother." Sergeant Knossus shouted, dragging the body aside, "Your service to the Emperor has yet to be repaid." He brought a hand to his helmet and spoke to the unit with the commlink. "There is a unit of devastators pinned at the top of the ridge to the north of us; we need their fire if we're to win this battle. To me brothers, we shall show our foe fury!" With that he reached for his belt, unhooking a grenade and throwing it into the back of the crowd, then charging into the mass of Tyranid before him, drawing his bolt pistol and chain sword and carving his way through to the other side.

Bael brought his flamer around to make a wall of fire, separating the Tyranid from reinforcements as the tactical squad followed Knossus, firing into the heart of tight clusters and picking off stragglers before they had an opportunity to flank.

_

* * *

_

"Incoming volley, get down get down!"

Guardsman Logan threw himself to the ground as the air around him erupted in screams. Grabbing a nearby body of a nameless soldier and dragging it over himself he gritted his teeth as he could feel something moving underneath the flesh of the victim.

Something grabbed his ankle and he looked over to see the squad voxman crawling towards him, rolling his eyes into his head as writhing shiny black worms burrowed themselves under his skin and slithered their way into his brain. He couldn't see the last bit, but he knew that was what was happening. He'd fought Tyranid before and encountered the horrors of their living ammunition. He grimaced and took aim with his lasgun, and a short flash of red light later the grip on his ankle went limp.

The average lifespan of a guardsman on the field of battle was sixteen hours; Logan was used to seeing comrades die. He looked around without moving his head, trying to find who else survived the last attack. His eyes fell on Moriarty, the squad demolitions. He was just wondering if he could make his way to the fallen soldier's grenade launcher when he saw him blink. They made eye contact and Moriarty began slowly moving his hand to the back of his belt.

Chancing a glance under the arm of his human-cover he saw a Tyranid Warrior appear from the crowd, easily recognizable as being the only one in sight that walked on two legs. His eyes glued on the monster as it drew nearer, lips peeled back to reveal dagger sized teeth. It snarled and the unit of gaunts surged forward.

Logan held his breath and clenched his eyes tight as the ground thundered around him, but he felt no pain. After another second of ground quaking he opened one eye to see the gaunts fleeting past them, on the run towards the next platoon. As a soldier he'd ceased being surprised, or even grateful, for near-death experiences. There was no "god emperor" or divine being to thank for his blessing to keep him safe, he was a simple soldier and this was simply war. Death was the only truth who stalked these planes or cared enough to pass some lives up and harvest others.

He took a quick look around to assess the situation and his target presented itself: the back of the Warrior, walking past where he and Moriarty lay. He knew he'd only have one shot to bring it down – the big ones were deadly once prey was in sight. He moved his head, preparing himself to throw off the body and bring the Warrior down. He took a deep breath, tensed his muscles, and missed a heartbeat as the sounds of his own plan met his ears before he'd even budged.

Logan threw the body off and rushed to his feet, stopping in his tracks as he saw Moriarty charging the Warrior's back. The guardsman fired with his laspistol and brought the demolition charge pack from his belt with his free hand. The shots sizzled against armored chitin as the beast turned and snarled. It leveled its weapon and fired at the man, the projected maggot-like sac glancing off his shoulder and exploding like an oversized water balloon, bathing his left side in corrosive acid.

Moriarty screamed as pain overloaded his entire left side and he threw himself at the beast. One of its paired talons flicked out and speared him through the chest, breaking through his flak armour, sternum, and back plate like cardboard. Moriarty hung there for a moment, suspended limply as the shock of the hit caught up with his body. His head rolled to look at his right hand and he forced his finger to press a single button as his vision darkened and the cold feeling in the left side of his body spread quickly throughout the rest.

Logan who had just brought his lasgun up to shoot the Warrior while it was distracted was blown backwards as a blinding light engulfed the area before him.

He lay on his back, unsure of how much time had just passed as his ears rang from the deafening crack of the demolition. He'd heard countless explosions in his lifetime, but sound wasn't like pain; you never got used to the sound of rushing death, unsure if it would pass you over or finally decide to collect its dues.

He brought his hands up to his head, vision blurred from the flash of light still burned into his mind. Groaning he rolled onto his stomach and got to his knees, only vaguely aware of the sounds of war around him. He looked over to see where the Warrior had stood and saw only a smoking crater, no signs that anything living had ever stood there. Behind it the Tyranid swarms had turned on each other, without the leadership synapse to guide them their behavior reverted to that of animals. Aggressive animals crowding one another's space.

The swirling masses became a bloodbath as the creatures bit and clawed at one another, staining the rocky ground with alien blood. Logan grinned to himself until he realized the brawl was nearing his location. He faltered before scrambling to pick up his weapon and backing away, not wanting to be caught in a conflict between packs of vicious animals. He turned to run when the sounds of fighting stopped instantly. Looking over his shoulder he saw another Warrior striding through the crowd towards him, chirping harshly and pointing with its talon.

The gaunts rushed at him, covering the distance he just ran in half the time. He turned and took a shot, knowing it was pointless. Even if every shot he made hit and killed a Tyranid, there would be half a swarm left to pursue him.

A loud clattering rang out and he turned in time to see two more Warriors, massive clawed hands and talon-arms leaping towards him. He yelled and threw himself backward, bringing the barrel of his gun around in an arc and taking three shots at them.

He landed hard on his back as the Warriors landed their jumps, completely unfazed by the blackened marks on their chests. They leapt again, seemingly in slow motion as Logan felt the last moments of his life drawing to a close. The nearest one's jump would land it directly on top of him.

A loud whistle was heard shortly before the ground between his legs was replaced by a silvery metal pillar, the force of the impact throwing Logan's upper body backward to the ground and almost knocking him out. He took his legs away from either side of the pod and rolled to the side, seeing bits of the Warrior that'd nearly killed him littering the area around the bottom. Its companion was temporarily distracted by the intrusion, ignoring Logan and tilting its head as great echoing thumps could be heard against the inside of the pod.

Logan looked at the bottom and realized that the pod couldn't open due to the rocks along the bottom of the hatch, keeping it closed. The hammering from inside grew louder. A great hissing brought his attention to the area in front of the pod where the Warrior returned its attention to the prey it could see.

He scrambled to his feet and ducked around to the back of the pod as the Warrior landed where'd he'd just been standing. He could hear the beast coming around the back and quietly moved to the opposite side, ducking down and trying to move some of the rocks along the bottom of the hatch. The sounds coming from inside were intensifying, but the imperial-style pod told him it was more human than the thing coming for him.

A hiss behind him told him his time was up and he threw himself forward, missing an impaling talon by inches but getting his foot caught in a firm hold by one of its clawed hands. He tried prying himself free but it was like having his foot caught in a vice – he couldn't even twist without breaking his knee. He felt several small pops in his foot but didn't have time to worry about the pain before the other hand clamped over his face and he could feel the tension exerted through its powerful fingers, feeling the pressure in his head build up and concentrate towards the gaps between its digits. In a matter of seconds he knew his head would explode just like he'd seen numerous times before.

A cry began making its way up his throat until it reached a crescendo climaxing in a sudden _bang_, and the hand on his head disappeared. He slumped to his side, gasping, eyes wide. He was unsure how many more times he could take Death's taunting this day.

He focused on the image before him. The hatch had been forced open, likely by the occupant, which had knocked the Warrior who had been standing right before it to the side. Clawing its way to its hoofed feet it spat out another hiss, talons flicking out and arms wide, readying for the attacker.

Out of the pod charged what was only rumored to exist in the stories swapped around campfires on foreign planets. Logan had certainly never met anyone who'd seen one, much less seeing one in action first hand. Until now. Slightly shorter than average in height, muscle bulging under flexible thin armour, the man's dominating feature was the skull-mask that covered his head, hallowed eye sockets allowing dim red orbs to glower miserably in dark pits and teeth pulled into an eternal grin.

An imperial assassin, Eversor Temple judging by the clawed gauntlet known to deliver a dozen lethal toxins and mask, had just landed to give aid to the desperate situation on Ktar V.

The assassin moved with lightning speed equal to that of the quicker Tyranid, throwing himself at the beast with sword and pistol in hand. The Warrior took a swipe with its claws followed with a stab from its talons, using its superior range to its advantage, but both attacks the assassin nimbly dodged, allowing them to miss by inches. It wasn't training that kept the assassin from being hit, Logan knew, it was the number of drugs coursing through his system that turned being shot at the equivalent to having rocks thrown at you, or that turned watching a feather fall into a day-long perceived experience.

The Eversor moved under the swipe and tackled the Warrior's upper-body, bringing his sword between two ribs and holstering his pistol its mouth, unloading half a dozen shots in the blink of an eye as he fell with it backwards towards the ground.

Logan looked around to see the swarms turn on one another again, hearing cheers of fellow guardsmen in the distance. The day might be won yet if they were able to keep this up… But he knew not to get hopeful. He had no idea how well the rest of the army was doing; shortly after redeploying from helping evacuate civilians to being sent into the belly of the beast from orders "high up" everyone was cut off from one another as the Tyranid forced each platoon to take up defensive positions far apart from one another.

An unfamiliar sound met Logan's ears and he looked around to see the Eversor, sliding his sword free and laughing to himself, presumable over the foe he'd just killed. Logan shuddered; it sounded like gravel scraping over a rough steel file. But his laughter died as quickly as it had begun – cutting off instantly as his head snapped to notice the nearest melee. Taking aim with his pistol he shot enough times to make Logan wonder if his pistol had a "full auto" mode of firing as he charged into the swarm, quickly disappearing as the chunks of flesh and bone littering the air made him impossible to distinguish from their previous owners.

'_So they really are as mad as they say…'_ He made a mental note not to make an encounter with one.

The great sounds of heavy weapons fire brought his attention to the ridge east of him, and he squinted to pick out the adeptus astartes rumored to be helping in this mission. And they certainly were now. From their position at the top of the battlefield they would be able to pick out the synapse creatures and cut them down with a hail of fire, leaving the rest of the broods to kill one another. He saw several of the smaller ones trying to claw their way up the rocks towards them before a burst a flame appeared from the marine's ranks, bathing the hillside in burning promethium.

Suddenly a path through the bodies appeared, leading towards another clearing where it looked as though more imperial guard were holding the line against several broods. Never one to miss a fight where he was needed Logan began limping his way towards them, stooping to pry a lasgun from a dead man's still warm hands and exchange his ammo.

_

* * *

_

Aracio strode through the bodies placidly, taking note of human mixed with the aliens and curling his lip. Today's battle had cost them dearly – the situation on the planet had been worse than he'd feared. They had less time than foretold to get to the shrine. Ahead of him groups of today's victorious forces stood around campfires or in the case of the astartes, kneeled in prayer within ranks.

"Inquisitor." Officer Collins addressed, coming from one of the groups and saluting. "We've driven the aliens back, but they're sure to return if we stay too long."

"Then you'll be pleased to hear that we're moving." Aracio said, stepping past him and coming to the marines who stood upon his approach. "Time is short, I've arranged transport be dropped over the nearest flat ground so we may reach the site quickly." He gestured in the direction drop ships were swooping low into orbit, depositing vehicles and taking off. "The area the shrine is in has been completely taken by Tyranid, we can't land without our ships being attacked by their anti-air."

"How shall we proceed?" A marine asked, decorated helm identifying him as a sergeant.

"The Tyranid have synapse nodes – a means to control the thralls without wasting their valuable creatures on the back lines. The nearest cluster is the only one for miles around the shrine." Aracio explained, nodding as an assassin made his way through the group growing around them to stand behind him. "Though once the nodes are destroyed, the hive mind will surely send their greatest beasts back to secure the land behind them. One party cannot achieve both objectives." He let this sink in before continuing. "I will lead the shrine-party, and a smaller strike force will destroy the nodes, turning the Tyranid on one another and letting us reach our destination. After their mission is complete, the strike force will rendezvous with us for extraction."

"I will lead the strike team." The sergeant marine said, his squad drawing up behind him. With a nod from Aracio he departed to make squad arrangements.

"And I will assign them two squads of leftovers." Collins announced, bowing his head to exit himself and roundup infantry whose units had been wiped out earlier today.

As everyone began making their way down the rocky slopes towards the transports Aracio turned to the assassin who stood still, staring at him. "You will go to the nodes and ensure the mission succeeds."

The Eversor turned without saying a word and made his way towards the vehicles that would take them to the hive nodes, the crowds giving him a wide berth.

Aracio looked over the small army, hoping this was all it took to stop the warp gate from opening.

One of the soldiers following Collins walking past caught Aracio's attention and he called him out of line. The man looked around, uncertain what an inquisitor would want with a lowly guardsman, but when he gestured again the soldier limped towards him.

"You look like you've seen many battles." Aracio stated simply, noting his scars. "And your lack of fresh wounds tells me you know your way around a battlefield."

"No more than any other man who's served in the guard over two years." He admitted humbly, not mentioning almost _no_ man in the guard had served that long.

Aracio's mouth twitched. "I think your abilities will be wasted if you're a part of the strike team." He said, waving a dismissive hand to Collins who was looking around for his missing trooper. "Tell me, have you ever thought of serving under the inquisition?"

"I take it I don't have the luxury of telling the truth?" the reluctant looking man asked, shifting his weight to his good leg.

Aracio's mouth split into a lopsided grin. He was liking his new henchman already.

_

* * *

_

Demarcus was rocked around again as the rhino transport encountered more difficult terrain. He felt strangely separated, being assigned to a different unit. Sergeant Knossus had felt their mission would be more likely to succeed if they had a heavy weapon so swapped him for a member from the devastator squad, Tamal. His new unit spoke very little, staring ahead with their heavy weapons nestled in their laps.

They'd been riding for several hours now, occasionally hearing bangs and scratches on the outside of the vehicles. But they never stopped, not wasting time on the critters they'd outstrip in a matter of minutes. Over the intercom of the rhino the inquisitor's voice rang out to the silent compartment. "Our imperial troops need rest, and we're nearing the location where we'll wait for the strike team to complete their mission. Stop at the upcoming outpost."

Demarcus couldn't see out of the rhino, imperial technology favoring protection over visibility, but he guessed they were nearing the outpost when the transport began slowing down. Across from him the devastator marine sighed. "Such a hassle… It was a mistake putting them side-by-side with the astartes."

"Watch your tongue, Charon." The sergeant marine warned. "Those are loyal imperials, and under His protection as much as you or I."

The marine called Charon made a throaty scoff before standing, readying to throw the hatch when they stopped completely. Demarcus watched him thoughtfully. While marines were in fact superior in every sense to a human – faster, stronger, tougher, smarter, and less dependent on food or sleep – it was always interesting hearing the different takes on what everyone had once been.

Finally the rhino stopped and the door was thrown open revealing a small town surrounded by desert landscape. Around them the imperial guard chimeras were stopping and unloading guardsmen, many of whom looked exhausted from the day's battle and travel. Out of one chimera came the inquisitor, servitor and guardsman in tow, and he spoke loudly to the assembled forces. "We'll secure this outpost and await contact from the strike team. The marines will provide support for the guardsmen as they move through the buildings."

And with that the uneasy guardsmen moved forward, throwing glances behind them to ensure the marines were following, moving up the central street and dividing off to search through the empty town.

* * *

"With all due respect, inquisitor," Logan muttered, not wanting the passing soldiers to hear, "Why aren't the better equipped, trained, and rested soldiers taking the brunt of what might be a trap?" He asked, eyeing the buildings warily from their safe distance back with the vehicles.

"If a one-use trap is going to kill its victim all the same, why waste the better equipped, trained and rested one?" Aracio shot back, folding his arms and watching for any signs of movement around the buildings. Night had fallen, and he knew the only things in the galaxy that gave the disadvantage to were humans. "You've fought Tyranid before. Do you think they'll have forces this far away from the frontlines?"

"I don't need to be an expert on the alien to know not to assume there's a single rock in this universe that isn't hiding something that wants you dead." Logan replied grimly, fingering a long scar stretching from his forehead to his neck.

* * *

Demarcus flipped through the vision modes of his visor, not finding any signs of life throughout the buildings. He settled for the LED light on the temple of his helmet and moved slowly with bolter raised behind the jumpy guardsmen. It was obvious these soldiers feared something in the dark corners of each shadow; maybe Demarcus would have shared their wariness if he knew what it was to look out for. He'd heard the words "Spook" and "Claw" being whispered between them, but as far as he was concerned the alien was one foe – if they met one it'd suffer the same fate as every other one they'd faced on the field of battle today.

The guardsmen halted before a particularly ominous looking building, full of long shadows and empty hallways. After they jerked their heads to allow the other to move ahead Demarcus rolled his eyes and moved between them into the building, stooping to make it under the normal human-sized door. Heartened by the presence of the marine the other guardsmen followed, taking up his sides and bringing much needed light to the dark rooms.

A short scraping sound was heard in the next room and Demarcus quickly pointed his bolter ahead, moving slowly towards the doorway. Wordlessly gesturing for the guardsmen to follow he pressed his back to the wall, switching off the light to hide his presence. He waited a moment to hear if whatever it was would move again but it was completely silent save for the ragged breathing of the guardsmen beside him. One of the guardsmen looked quizzically at him, not having heard the sound, but readied himself at Demarcus' sign.

Steadying himself and sliding closer towards the entry, Demarcus took a breath before quickly spinning around the corner, taking a part of the wall with him in his haste. The long hallway stood empty before him, ending in a staircase which went up to the right. The window at the end of the hall let moonlight illuminate a long rectangle of floor, but nothing could be seen in the darkness between it and the marine straining his eyes to pick out signs of movement.

He took a step forward and felt his foot brush against something solid. Figuring it was part of the wall, he took another step and had to work his foot down before it could reach the ground. Knowing that sensation of firm mass yet slight give, he slowly reached up to turn on his light, already knowing what he'd see in the hall.

Bodies piled two or three deep littered the entire corridor. Eyes wide in horror, they stared up at the ceiling or at the walls, mouths contorted into an eternal scream that would never be heard. They weren't just men either; women and children were in abundance. Demarcus kneed beside one as he heard the guardsmen enter the hall behind him and gasp loudly, one covering his mouth and ducking out. There were little signs of the animal-like violence he'd seen capable of the ones today though. Something else killed these people.

Turning over a small boy Demarcus' eyes widened as he saw numerous holes bored into the back of his head – surgical and precise, not mindless or erratic. Looking down the arms of the child he noticed long claw marks dug into his upper arms and torso, where the monster had likely held him in place to perform its feeding after dragging him here to suffer the same fate as everyone else in the town.

He let the boy down, carefully sliding his fingers over his eyelids. There was a time when he would have felt sorrow for the victims of horrible tragedies in war, but after seeing it time and time again it merely became a fact of life. Terrible things would always happen to the defenseless innocents; you can't alter what's already been written. Accepting that fact and resolving to prevent similar actions in the future and punish those responsible was what separated a crusader from a mere soldier, a warrior with a purpose from an animal with an instinct.

Something scuffled down the hall ahead of him and he brought up the bolter instantly, seeing a shadow flash around the staircase. Whatever had done this was still here, and unless it'd taken the entire outpost single handedly it wasn't alone.

"Pull back! Pull back and regroup!" Demarcus called to the guardsmen who were quick to answer, running ahead of him as he backed away back towards the entrance, keeping his weapon raised incase they were followed. As he was just about to pass the doorframe the shadow slinked across from the staircase into the hall. Demarcus blinked, unsure of what he'd just seen. The light from the window bended slightly, as if gas or heat waves were in front of it, and a shuffling of bodies told him something was making its way down the hall towards him. Suddenly two slanted eyes became visible, floating in the darkness with the window behind them.

With no intention of taking an unseen foe alone without support, he turned to run.

In front of him the guardsmen stood in front of the building, calling to others across the street.

"Everything looks clear, we shou–!" the guardsmen across the street standing before a dark alley was cut off in a scream as something yanked him backwards into the blackness.

Suddenly the air was alive with yells and shouts of men around the entire outpost. Demarcus reached the doorway of his building and called out to the devastators, who had set up in the center of the outpost and looked around wildly, unsure of where to fire.

Charon looked at him and raised his heavy bolter, unleashing a burst just as Demarcus' legs were taken from under him, causing him to fall onto his chest and bolter scatter away across the floor. Turning to see what'd taken hold of him he saw the outline of what could have passed for a giant preying mantis – "giant" being nearly twice his size. As several heavy bolter shells punched through the outline it hissed and rippled, outline suddenly filling in to reveal a scaly, spindly version of the Warriors they'd seen earlier; though in place of a mouth it had a face-full hanging tendrils, tube-like feelers wandering lazily as slime dribbled down between them.

Wounded by the shots the thing reared, Demarcus taking the chance to kick out with a massive boot and bring the beast to a knee as its lower leg's exoskeleton was shattered. But his advantage was short lived as two massive shoulder-mounted talons were brought down on him. He grunted as he caught both of them, trying to fend off the thing's hands that were scrambling over his armor searching for weak spots. The talons began making sawing motions, serrated barbs digging through his gauntleted hands with frightening ease as the clawed hands found the bottom of his chest plate and began prying.

Thinking quickly he took one hand away and allowed the talon to saw at his shoulder pads as he punched his fist into one of the holes made by the bolter shells. When the creature showed no signs of pain and Demarcus realized it was a race to see who could kill the other the fastest he took his other hand from defense and dug it into another hole, pushing deeper and tearing through as much soft tissue and organs he could reach to cause as much internal trauma possible, hoping shock would catch up to the creature before it got through his armour.

Almost instantly the creature's actions became slowed, and while the sharp claws kept their edge the force behind them had become languish, feebly attempting to finish what they'd started. Demarcus balled his hands into fists within the alien, bringing his knee up to its chest and pulling them out along with whatever they'd grasped as the alien's eyes clouded over.

"Suffer not the alien to live." He recited to his fallen foe sprawled across the floor. He then hurried to pick up his bolter and rejoin his brothers outside where the battle continued.

* * *

"Lictors, sir." Logan said to Aracio as the guerrilla battle before them bode ill for the imperials. "They assimilate information for the rest of the hive to use in taking a planet, and their chameleonic scales make them difficult to target with ranged weaponry."

"If this continues we won't have any people _alive_ to take the shrine." Aracio said, scowling as he saw guardsmen run through by invisible spears or explode in a spectacular spray for no apparent reason. He spoke to the troops on the voxcaster beside his chimera, "Pull back towards the vehicles, draw them out to us and don't let them separate you!" He switched frequencies to address the vehicles, "Fire on all the buildings. I want this outpost a burning ruin by night's end, with no place for the alien to slip away."

* * *

"We must be nearing the nodes, resistance is increasing." Bael muttered through the commlink, putting a hand on the seat beside him to keep from being knocked around as the rhino was forced off course before being corrected. Muffled by the interior of the vehicle, a great roar could be heard outside in the distance.

"You hear that?" Knossus chuckled. Beneath the grinding treads they could all feel a rhythmic quaking, growing stronger with each wave. Suddenly the roar called out again, this time much closer. The horrible screech of ripping metals could be heard nearby followed by a loud explosion.

"The enemy knows their time has come – the angels of death have descended to deliver retribution."

His words were met with a loud "oorah" as the rhino stopped suddenly and the doors thrown open.


	3. Proditor facies

**Chapter III: Proditor Facies**

No sooner was the door thrown open than it was slammed shut again, nearly taking off a Tamal's arm. He threw his shoulder into it but nothing budged. Outside cries and firing could be heard, telling them the guardsmen needed help.

"The top hatch, move marines!" Knossus commanded, opening the roof access and standing aside to let the other marines through one at a time.

Bael was second in line, sticking his head out and ducking it in again just as a gigantic claw swept over the top of the rhino, picking up the first marine. He cried out as he was swung over the smoke and fires surrounding the area.

Instinct honed from training kicked in as Bael scrambled out of the hatch, drawing his pistol and lining up several shots along the massive arm ending with the thick crab-claw holding his battle brother. All the self-propelled bolts either exploded on impact or hit and spiraled off to detonate in midair.

Suddenly a shape loomed from the billows of smoke produced by a wrecked chimera, easily the size of a small building. A protruding head came first, armored as well as the rest of its body, then the rest of the alien.

"Carnifex! Run like hell, get to–!" a guardsman screamed from the ground below when he was cut off in a gurgle as a behemoth talon stretched from the smoke and pushed him to the ground, smearing the five-foot body into a fifteen-foot streak. The remainder of his unit kept firing, the carnifex completely ignoring the flashlights until another talon arm flicked out from the smoking wreckage and slashed through five more soldiers with ease, as if the grim reaper itself had extended its scythe to claim their souls.

Bael drew his flamer and sent a burst of flame into the creature's torso as the remainder of the squad climbed out of the rhino. Each marine was sending volleys of bolts directly into the face of the carnifex but nothing seemed to cause any real damage.

The carnifex turned its head towards its captive as the marine fired several bolts directly into the gap in the exoskeleton where arm met shoulder. Its burning red eyes narrowed, and with a sickening crunch and a cry the marine was sheared in two.

Bael snarled, infuriated that something could so carelessly defeat a space marine. He jumped from the rhino, landing and unleashing even more fire on the beast, its indifference only fueling his fury.

"Stand aside!" Tamal shouted, clearing a shot for the creature's head. He hefted his plasma cannon and began charging, keeping the barrel aimed at the target. Just as the carnifex took notice of the marine assaulting its feet the cannon began shaking and he released, firing the energized ball at the carnifex.

Bael realized he'd let emotion take control over training a second too late as the carnifex finally noticed him, sweeping out with a talon and flinging him almost fifty yards where he landed in rubble that'd been part of the chimera. A split second later the ball of plasma met the side of the alien's head. At first it looked as though its sheer size absorbed the blast as the energy dispersed into the right side of the face, but immediately following was a great cracking sound and the entire left half of the face blew outwards, showering the ground with bone fragments and blood.

The carnifex actually stumbled at this, falling onto its left limbs for support. Knossus hurriedly climbed off the rhino and ran to where Bael had been thrown.

The marine sergeant moved several large pieces of chimera shell and found Bael lying on the ground, coughing as he regained consciousness. He had been very lucky, the line between a marine's armor being breached and suffering bodily harm was a fine one; fortunately the blow had come across his chest and shoulders and while his armour was badly dented it was nothing repairs couldn't fix.

"That was reckless, brother. You will fast for forty hours upon safe return from our mission." Knossus reprimanded, lifting the piece of debris across Bael's legs and letting him climb out of the pile of rubble.

Bael was about to nod in acknowledgment when an earsplitting shriek split the air and both marines turned to see the carnifex rearing up from the ground.

"It still lives?" Bael gasped as he scooped up his weapon a short distance away. He moved to engage the carnifex as it clambered to its feet but Knossus held him back.

"It is costing us too much; we must destroy the nodes before finishing the alien." Knossus called through the commlink, "Regroup in the structure to the south, we are almost to the objective."

The marines responded instantly, moving down the rhino quickly and calling to the remaining guardsmen to follow. A loud crackling filled the air again and Knossus turned to see the devastator marine still on the rhino, ready to fire on the carnifex again. "Complete the mission brothers, I will hold the beast!" he shouted, unleashing another blast which sank into the side of the carnifex's torso and caused it to bellow out in anger and frustration.

Knossus ground his teeth. He hated leaving men behind, but without the heavy fire keeping the beast down it would take apart their entire team. He ushered the last few guardsmen in the direction Bael was running and made to follow as another blast rang through the air. He was just about to turn his back on the lone marine holding the monster when something caught in the corner of his eye and he watched in horror as what looked like a large hill came from the smog and smashed into the side of the rhino, throwing the marine forwards to the ground.

A tusked carnifex, brought by the calls of the wounded one, reared its head and roared. Knossus brought his bolter up and fired several shots to distract the new alien, but it ignored him as it scanned the ground for its prey.

Tamal stumbled to his feet, vaguely aware of the huge shapes moving around him as his hands flew over the side of his cannon, muscle memory readying the gun to fire again. The plasma cannon purred to life and he just sank his hand into the support when a great piercing pressure forced its way through his back armor and wedged itself into his fused ribcage.

He had felt this kind of dull pain before… When the chest cavity or equally vital part of the body was penetrated it didn't hurt like flesh wounds, cuts or burns. It just hurt enough to let the person know they were probably going to die soon. Perhaps it was the body's last act of mercy, making the last few moments in a person's life as bearable as possible.

Tamal's last thoughts were on regret that his last mission was left unfinished in his name as another foreign object forced its way into his chest to rend him apart.

Knossus snarled as he watched another marine die, infuriated that he could do nothing to avenge him at this time. The carnifex ran its talon along the ground to rid itself of the bit of him still left on before turning its gaze on the fleeing humans. It lowered its head and began to charge just as the first carnifex clumsily regained its footing.

Knossus was about to turn to run when the distinctive sounds of vehicle treads met his ears.

Over the hill they'd come from emerged the second chimera, driving flat out and completely ignoring obstacles in its path. It was on a collision course with the first carnifex and didn't show signs of stopping. A foolish effort, Knossus felt, as the carnifex clearly had enough time to react to the oncoming vehicle.

As he watched the chimera approached the carnifex at speeds enough to take out its legs from under it. Then at the last possible second the creature reacted by lowering its talon and letting the transport drive itself into the spiked appendage.

"Was that… the reinforcements?" Bael's voice sounded through the commlink.

But before Knossus could answer the top turret hatch to the chimera opened and a dark-clad figure darted out. Before he could blink the figure ran up the arm and leapt onto the monster's face, drawing sword and battle-gauntlet before stabbing away furiously at the side missing majority of its mass.

The monster threw its head back, shrieking and trying to shake the weight off the only arm close enough to remove the assassin. This in turn made the charging carnifex stop, turning to see what the commotion was in time to see the great alien's actions slow, then lurch forward and collapse, laying motionless in the dirt with one good eye staring blankly ahead.

The eversor was thrown from the body, tumbling neatly and springing up again to face the new foe. He laughed loudly, rapping his armored knuckles along the flat side of his sword to create an eerie metallic ring, taunting his enemy.

Knossus couldn't be sure but it looked as though he were drenched in blood. The carnifex must have killed everyone else in the chimera, for even as he waited for survivors to stumble from the wreckage while the alien before him turned to charge the lone human, none came.

Assuming the eversor's actions were meant to be a distraction, he hurried to meet with the others and complete what they'd been sent to do as the sounds of animalistic roars and mad laughter hounded his footsteps.

* * *

The large doorways slid open upon Bael's approach. It seemed that this entire facility was built into the mountainside. He had his doubts that the Tyranid would be intelligent enough to place something within the facility, but the location was ideal for a valuable and vulnerable target.

The power looked like it'd long since been cut and dust layered the smooth floorings, but the marines still proceeded with caution. If carnifex could be found this far out, there was no telling what else could be lurking in the abandoned places of this world.

"Where do you suppose these 'nodes' are?" one guardsman whispered hoarsely to another, attaching a light to the end of his lasgun.

"Dunno what they even look like…" he responded, "Let's just follow the boys in armor; they seem like they know what they're doing."

The entryway was nothing more than a long hallway, stretching from left to right. This place wasn't meant to be used by anyone who didn't have direct business. Bael signaled two marines to check one end while the rest checked the other.

Upon reaching the ends of the hall they voiced through the commlink that each hall led to several doors, each leading to several more halls. Bael cursed softly; they were running out of time if the Tyranid were so far in devouring the planet that they were able to afford sending their largest beasts back to defend.

Just as he was about to make a decision the doors behind him slid open and Knossus entered, breathing heavily. "Sergeant Knossus, we have several paths to take."

The sergeant marine recovered instantly, looking down the halls. "We don't have time to check each as a group; we'll split our forces." He strode down the left hall, calling Bael to him. "We'll move with our brothers down this path, the other marines will take the guardsmen and check the other. Keep contact up at all times and keep your weapons ready, our foe will know we're here by now…" he said, pointing with his pistol at the rough hole tore through the ceiling over him.

Bael nodded and followed him, throwing one last look at the two marines leading the unenthusiastic group of guardsmen before they disappeared behind their door and he behind his.

Turning he flicked on his light, adding one to the number of spots of visibility in the blackness. They were in another long hall, the dark silhouettes before him shuffling forward.

A small crushing sound was heard and Bael looked down to see broken glass littering the floor. Looking to the side, he saw a room adjacent to the hall, full of tables and odd machines.

"This may have been a science facility, Knossus." Bael said, trying to break the silence that'd fallen over the comm.

"We're finding remains of humans along the… Everywhere." Another marine said from the opposite party. "Looks like a small battle took place here. No bodies though."

Knossus entered the next room in the hall, giving it a quick scan before letting the others in. This room was much larger and the marines adjusted their lights to cover a broader area. It looked like it may have been a lecture hall at some time; many desks rowed the walls separated by red carpeting.

"Sergeant Knossus, there appears to be a maintenance room ahead of us. One of the guardsmen says he may be able to restore some temporary power." The marine from the other party voiced through the commlink.

"Do it," Knossus said. "we'll need it if we're to find the nodes quickly."

Bael kneeled beside a desk while the other marines explored the room trying to find how many more ways there were to split from here. Along the side of the desk were large slash marks, made by claws easily the size of his own forearm judging by the depth and length. While they hadn't encountered this type of Tyranid before, Bael had an uneasy feeling they would before the mission was over.

_Drip._

Bael jerked his head at the noise, bringing his flamer up and pointing it in several directions before something quickly fell through his light, a moment later making the same sound.

Keeping his flamer raised he slowly walked around the desk, trying to find where the drop landed. Staring motionless at the isle, he saw another drop fall and splash into the carpets, blending in instantly. He was about to turn away, dismissing it as leaky plumbing when something caught his eye under all the desks: white carpeting.

Slowly he raised his head to stare at the ceiling. He focused his light, but the ceilings were too high to see.

As if not to disappoint, a dull thrum could be heard within the walls and the lighting overhead flickered for a moment before coming to life, illuminating the room.

"By his holy light…" a marine breathed, following Bael's gaze. Even with the intense psychological training required of the astartes, there were a few things in the universe that shook one's very foundations.

Every inch of the ceiling was covered in bodies, many in lab coats, and all with similar expressions of terror and pain on their white faces. They seemed to be hung there by some alien adhesive, gluing their limbs to the ceiling behind them.

"Bael, burn them." Knossus' voice rang through the air immediately.

"What in His name…" Bael began, before being interrupted by Knossus.

"There are many things in this galaxy we are all better off not knowing of, brother." He said, striding over and taking the flamer from Bael. "It is not our place to understand the 'hows' or 'whys,' it is our place to recognize, assess," he aimed the flamer and unleashed waves of flame upon the bodies, "and cleanse. The alien shall not be given relief to reproduce."

He pushed the flamer back into Bael's chest and made for the door across the room.

Bael shook his head, knowing that image would stick with him forever and trotted after his unit.

"Sergeant! Sergeant Knossus!" a calm yet rushed voice called over the commlink.

"Yes brother, we are here." Knossus said, gesturing for the marines to follow.

"The alien has discovered us, we're holding in the maintenance room." Over his voice they could hear the shouts and screams of guardsmen and howls of aliens. "We will hold as long as we can; if we aren't in the entry hall when you return leave without us."

"That is my decision, brother." Knossus told him. "Fight with the fury of the Chapter, and we shall meet again soon… The Emperor protects." He added, a somber tone echoing in his words.

"The Emperor protects." The marine answered, "Don't let them through the door, let them choke it with their own bodies. Purge the xenos!" And the commlink cut.

"Emperor's speed, brothers. We must be nearing the nodes." Knossus called, picking up the pace through the halls and rooms they passed.

They ducked in and out of half a dozen rooms and halls, all of which were empty save for broken lab materials and signs of murder. Something they'd all noticed since the lights came on was how the facility itself had come to life. Sounds could be heard all around them – down the corridors, behind them, inside the walls. Scampering, scraping, hissing, slowly it dawned on each marine that they may not see daylight again. But each one knew it mattered not if their mission was complete – that's all that mattered.

"They'll have placed them in the deepest part of the facility, keep moving." A marine said, "Check that door, Bael."

Bael looked to his right and saw a door – much larger than the ones they'd seen so far, he wouldn't even have to stoop to get through it. He tapped the access panel and the door slid open, expelling light green gases over their feet.

"On your guard brothers, this is the place." Bael muttered, keeping the flamer ready. The overhead lights in this room seemed to have been intentionally ripped down, allowing the only illumination to come from the buttons and glass panes of machines lining the walls, making a dim but visible atmosphere.

The room itself was divided, branching off into separate areas divided by cheap curtains and screens. "Split up and locate the target, call when you find something." Knossus ordered, keeping his chain sword and pistol drawn as he approached a number of monitors.

Bael turned to explore another part of the room, not sure what a hive node even looked like. Stepping forward and feeling something squish under his boot, he waved a hand to disperse the fog and shone his light around his feet. It looked like plant roots, snaked across the flooring and around the machinery. Following the root as it thickened, he almost tripped as his foot caught on a much larger, squishier something. Shining his light, he knew this must be what they were looking for.

They were a series of fleshy-looking mounds that pulsed every few seconds, stretching from which were the long roots around the room. Out of the top sprouted several long, thin tentacles that reached for Bael as he approached.

"Brothers, I've found the–!" Bael began, but stopped himself when he heard the distinct shred of metal and a second later a marine crashed through the opaque dividers and screens separating the room.

Shouts and firing could be heard from the other side of the room and Bael ran to meet his brothers. He rounded the corner of the entrance to see a large Tyranid passing its claws through a marine's helmet as easily as the air before it. The marine's body dropped like a dead weight as the Tyranid turned to face its new attackers.

"Broodlord!" Knossus shouted to the others, "Get back – don't let it get close!" But this was much easier said than done in an enclosed area with the alien wanting very much to get close.

Two marines opened fire on it, one shell actually penetrating the muscled leg and detonating. To their surprise its leg was still attached, and while its walking speed had slowed some it didn't seem to notice.

"Sergeant Knossus, the aliens are retreating. We're moving to regroup with you now." The marine from the other party called through the comm, heavy footsteps reverberating in the background.

"Get here quickly marines, we require assistance!" Knossus shouted back as the Broodlord pounced forward, sinking its claws into the chest of one of the marines firing on it and ripping outwards, large hands taking most of his insides with them.

Knossus took this chance to engage. Bringing his weapon down on its head in a strike whose force alone would knock out a space marine, the chain sword's teeth burnt into bone and caused sparks to rain over the two of them before the edges were instantly lost. Bael drew several shots with his pistol to the beasts head as it reared back, but despite the multiple impacts the Broodlord was unfazed.

Knossus ducked around the creature's back before it swung out to decapitate him and dropped his weapons, using his arms to incapacitate the Broodlord's. Another marine jumped in to help, but the Broodlord was much stronger than either of them. It peeled off their grips with either hand, turning and facing them with both their arms caught in its two. It was then that paired talons appeared below its arms, flexing momentarily before thrusting forward and puncturing the marines under their arms, then tore down either side in a disemboweling incision.

The Broodlord threw their bodies to the side, a split second later stumbling backwards as a flamer nozzle was pushed against its face and ignited. "Burn in the light of purifying faith!" Two more marines stood beside Bael as their fingers never left their triggers, unloading everything they had on the Broodlord. It backed into a wall when Bael's flamer gasped and went out.

The Broodlord saw its chance and kicked out, hurling the marines beside him away as it regained itself and made for Bael. Its face was partially melted, the only recognizable parts being one eye that glared at him and a small hole on the other side of his face that used to be its mouth. Everything else was melted bone and tissue wrapped around a shapeless bulk that'd been its head.

Bael backed away quickly, knowing he'd never reach his fuel in time, when a shape lunged out of the corner of his eye to tackle to Broodlord to the ground.

Sergeant Knossus threw one last look over his shoulder at his marines as the series of grenades he kept on his belt went off hugged to his chest, penetrating his armour at this close range and shredding the Broodlord alive. The force of the explosion coupled with the gases and dust in the room made it impossible to see for several minutes as the marines recovered themselves.

"Is this… How it always is?" Bael asked numbly, gesturing to his brothers lying around the room, each worth several lifetimes of combat, stories and experiences. As a boy he was brought up with stories of the heroic marines – the imperium's last hope. Armed with faith and righteous zeal full-fledged marines were those who could never be killed, could take on entire armies and overwhelming odds and still achieve victory, whose every loss was a great sorrow felt throughout the imperium. But on this one mission, how many great lives had already been lost… How many heroes would never be recognized, how many tales of great conquest and victories to their name would never be told.

"Yes, brother. This is what it means to be an angel of death – we are no exception to its reach. We are few, and our enemies many. " One of them replied hollowly, looking to where their sergeant lay in tatters alongside the alien. "Now let's find what they've paid the ultimate price for."

Bael nodded and showed them to the nodes. Popping the empty fuel tank out and sliding in a fresh one, he engulfed every part of the nodes he could see in flame. They shriveled and shrank away as if sentient, until their blackened husks held no more life.

"It is done, brother." One of the marines said, "We will make repairs on our transport and then leave this planet."

As Bael turned to follow the doors slid open before they reached them, allowing an assassin to enter, weapons drawn.

"You survived." Bael stated, surprised as the eversor entered the room looking over the bodies.

"Indeed I have…" The eversor whispered, voice coarse. "Indeed I have…" He repeated to himself as he looked over the bodies again before snapping his head to stare intently at Bael. "Is the mission complete?"

"Yes…" Bael stated, eyes narrowing as he noted the color of blood dripping from the end of his sword. "Did you find the others on your way here?"

"Others?" The eversor laughed aloud for no reason, taking a step towards him. "There were more of you?"

"You've counted the bodies." One of the marines stated, circling around the eversor. "Meaning you don't care or you already know."

"Or I already know…" the eversor echoed quietly, staring at a spot on the floor as he took another step.

"Why?" Bael asked angrily, readying his weapon. "We're loyal subjects to the Imperium as you are, _why_ would you do this?"

"You have your mission…" The assassin said simply, turning his head to face Bael.

Just then the temporary power to the facility had finally been drained and all lights shut off, leaving Bael to stare at the two red pinpricks before him.

"And I have mine."


	4. Quo cunabula ad sepulchrum

**Chapter IV: Quo cunabula ad sepulchrum**

Inquisitor Aracio's lips peeled in a smile. After the town had been razed the alien had no where to hide. Though their forces had been greatly diminished, he felt it was strong enough still to complete its purpose.

As he watched the remaining devastators bring down the last lictor with a stream of fire leaving it nothing more than a stringy mess of meat, he turned to Logan. "Nothing like a little engagement to wake up the troops, hm?" He chuckled, climbing into the chimera.

Logan stared after him, then to the remaining guardsmen. They were bloodied, shell shocked, and completely demoralized. _'That's what they get for being _tired_?'_ He shook his head as the guardsmen loaded back up in their transports. They couldn't keep up like this; adrenaline could keep a soldier active without sleep for considerable amounts of time, but substituting rest for more adrenaline was not the solution.

"Excellent news." Aracio claimed as he stepped out the transport. "We're moving to the shrine."

* * *

Demarcus wondered how the rest of his unit was doing as their transport entered a steep climb. According to the inquisitor the shrine was at the top of this mountain, and to be honest he couldn't wait for his first mission to be complete.

"You handled yourself pretty well back there, initiate." Charon said from the other side of the rhino to Demarcus.

Demarcus wasn't sure he was supposed to take that as a compliment or an insult referring to his previous rank. But before he could speak the marine laughed, waving his hand. "I'm joking, initiate. Not many can say they've survived an encounter with a lictor up close before – much less defeated one."

Still not entirely certain Demarcus smiled slowly. Perhaps this was his way of accepting him into the unit as a comrade as well as a battle brother.

"It's strange though, vanguard organisms so far behind their own lines." Another marine spoke, "What were they doing there?"

"Let the inquisitor handle the reasoning behind the bug's thoughts. We're the fist of the imperium, not the brain." Charon said, leaning with everyone else to push most of the rhino's weight down as they entered a particularly steep climb.

"We must be nearly there." Demarcus said, straightening himself. Outside the sounds of minor clashes carried through the air, but no screams or weapon firing from men. It seemed the Tyranid really did need their precious nodes for control.

"Initiate, pop the hatch. I want to have a quick look." Charon called to Demarcus who was closest to the door. "And don't fall out, we won't wait for you."

Demarcus reached for the handle and threw it open, kneeling before the opening with bolter raised incase something tried getting in. Before him a great battle was taking place, and he was grateful for the inquisitor's insight to send one party to destroy the nodes; because while he didn't doubt the capabilities of himself or his battle brothers, along with the support from the guard, he simply doubted they had enough ammo for all the things passing behind them.

Great monstrosities that towered over them were being taken down by numerous swarms of the smaller ones, rampaging around and flattening several others with a single stride. Even if they'd tried this tactic without bothering the nodes, there was no way they'd have made it half the distance they already had.

"Beautiful… Isn't it." Charon's voice sounded beside him. It wasn't a question. But just then the rhino covered a series of difficult rocks and leveled out, blocking the mountainside from view. Their gaze now forced to the horizon, they noticed that the edges of the landscape seemed to be moving towards them. It didn't take long to realize that it wasn't the landscape.

The rhino slowed and the marines disembarked quickly, Demarcus running to the inquisitor's chimera to inform him. As the hatch opened the scent of incense and wax wafted out, and he realized the chimera had more passengers than just the inquisitor and his retinue. Several imperial priests, burning sigils of the inquisition woven into their robes, kneeled in prayer at the front of the chimera, Aracio beside them.

The guardsman had been the one who'd opened the door, clearly needing air. He looked startled at the marine standing right before him, but nodded his head in acknowledgement.

"The Tyranid swarm is returning." Demarcus said, pointing to the horizon. "They must have sensed the nodes being destroyed and now have enough of the planet to send forces back to reclaim the area."

"No matter." Aracio stated, glancing at the swarms that would be on them in less than an hour and away again as if impending doom was something to be waved off. "We'll be done shortly."

Demarcus turned as he stepped out of the transport, taking in the site they'd come for. It was as they said: a chaos shrine, its tall pillars engraved with heretical ravings and symbols, and its central structure adorned with bloodstains and scriptures.

As he stood there the thirteen priests passed on either side of him, heads down and hands tucked away in the sleeves of their robes.

"Inquisitor, what would you have us do?" the sergeant marine from the devastator squad asked to Aracio as he walked after the priests.

"Do what you will, your mission is complete. Ensure nothing interrupts the ritual and you'll have served mankind as admirably as many of your own great heroes." Aracio said, not turning around as he stood behind the priests beginning to circle the altar before the central structure.

"Sir!" a marine shouted, running over from the rhino to address the sergeant. "There is a city, on the other side of this mountain. They still have survivors and they've fortified themselves in against the Tyranid swarm. The aliens must be coming back for it once the rest of the planet is unable to help them."

The sergeant marine thought for a moment, then made a roundup motion with his hand to all surviving troops, guard and marines. "We're going to save those citizens. Load into the transports, we'll send the coordinates–"

"You'll do no such thing." Aracio's cold voice snapped through the air.

The marines turned to look at him as he left the ring of priests beginning to make hexagrams and wards around the altar. "You dismissed us, inquisitor. What other service could you need of us?" The sergeant asked, straining himself to keep respectful.

"I gave you permission to do as you please, so long as you don't leave this area." Aracio clarified, gesturing to the surrounding summit. "Would you make the sacrifices you and your brothers have suffered a waste should we fail?"

"To save lives is not a waste of the imperium's guardians." The sergeant said sternly, standing his full height.

"Who will your actions save?" the inquisitor asked, voice rising. "Those people?" He pointed in the direction of the city. "You may save them, but if we're left defenseless here and attacked you'll have cost mankind billions more."

The marine turned. "We're wasting time our allies don't have." He announced, moving to the rhino. His squad looked hesitantly at the inquisitor before following. Brotherhood would always supercede command.

"Who has the power to save this planet, marine?" Aracio called to him. "Who has the power to save all the nearby worlds? Them?" When they didn't answer he turned on the spot, muttering to himself. "So be it. I hope your gamble pays off."

Logan turned from where the priests had started chanting to Aracio as he approached. "They appear to be close to finishing inquisitor." He looked over the tall man's shoulder to see all the transports they came in driving down the other side of the mountain. "Are they… supposed to do that?"

"Never question the place of a traitor; they'll crop up where you'll least expect it." Aracio muttered, looking oddly calm despite the altercation that'd just taken place.

"As you say…" Logan acknowledged, folding his arms and turning back to the priests. Curious now, he addressed the man beside him. "You do not seem troubled that our entire defense has left us, alone, on a mountain peak surrounded by Tyranid."

"You'd be surprised at how much easier it is this way, actually." Aracio said, almost chuckling. His eyes narrowed as a priest stood, removing his hood and turning to him.

"The runes are cast, inquisitor. The shrine is nearly ready for activation." The bald man said, eyes never leaving the ground.

Logan stared at the man and then to Aracio as he nodded approvingly. "What else is required?"

"'Activation'?" Logan echoed, staring between the two men. "Required for what?"

But Aracio ignored him, listening to the priest. "The soul of a righteous killer, a just murderer, a distorted zealot, a–" the priest listed the titles with arms upraised dramatically.

"Thank you, I got it." Aracio interrupted, bringing a hand to his temple and thinking hard. He frowned; he was _so_ close… He turned to Logan. "I don't suppose you're any of those things he listed?"

Logan shook his head quickly, eyes wide. "No, but what the hell is going on? I thought the mission was to deactivate the shrine?"

Aracio's face darkened visibly. "If only you knew the powers of Chaos…" He shook his head, "No, deactivation is only for weak objects of chaos. So weak you may as well destroy them. This… This is an ancient relic for their false gods, a portal through which they could send their legions to invade our universe."

"So you're going to turn it _on_?" Logan asked incredulously, not sure what part of all this he didn't understand.

"No, I'm reversing it." Aracio corrected. "I'm going to send it back to the warp whence it came, taking this entire world with it… Or I was." He said irritably, looking around in annoyance. "Maybe we'll just try you anyway and see if the chaos beasts don't notice, hmm?"

"What – What're you–!" Logan gasped as Aracio grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and felt the thin barrel of a laspistol being pushed against his neck.

But before the trigger could be pulled a great churning of machinery could be heard and they both looked over to see a very battered rhino, one side sporting two gaping holes, chug its way onto the summit. It looked as though it'd been driven at speeds not meant for an APC, and Logan doubted very much it was capable of much more travel.

After stopping the side door hatch opened and the assassin stepped out, barely recognizable from twelve hours prior. It looked as though he'd been through a gauntlet and managed to get trapped in every obstacle. Parts of his armour hung pointlessly and his white skull had been blackened with soot and ash.

"Eversor, your timing is impeccable as ever." Aracio called as he drew near, a comprehending smile stretching across his face. "This man is a traitor."

Logan gasped as the inquisitor dropped him, landing on his back. He scrambled away from the assassin as he stalked closer, flourishing his sword. The eversor closed the distance between them and lifted him up with one hand by the neck.

Then a small _clink_ was heard as the barrel of a gun was placed against his helmet and then fired, causing Logan to drop a second time as the assassin fell wordlessly to the side, mask still grinning. The sword fell from his open palm as it hit the ground, hilt clanging off the ground once before coming to a halt beside him.

"Will this do?" Aracio called to the priests, raising the eversor's arm towards them and waving with it.

The head priest nodded and they came to take the body, placing it on the altar and chanting again. Logan stared around, unsure of what to make of the past five minutes as the priests finished their chorus, kneeling before the body.

"That concludes our mission." Aracio said simply, stepping over to the chimera and ordering an emergency extraction. Upon seeing the look on his bodyguard's face he explained "It's alright, the Tyranid are still sorting through their own forces, they won't have time to shoot us down."

"It's not that, inquisitor, it's…" Logan started, but didn't know where to begin.

"Oh and strip that body." Aracio ordered the priests about to leave the altar. "The temples always prefer it when at least some token of their murderers is returned to them." They nodded and began undressing the body as the loud screech of engines was heard and a drop ship arrived, opening the back entrance for the survivors.

Aracio walked up the ramp with a still confused Logan and shuffling servitor in tow, the priests following carrying tattered armour and weapons. Aracio took a seat by the ramp as the priests moved to the front of the ship, kneeling in circle and beginning to pray again. But Logan couldn't sit; he had to know more about what'd just happened.

"So… _Why_?" Logan asked, not sure where else to start. "Why do all this, to close off one gate?"

"One gate?" Aracio repeated, pulling back his hood and raising an eyebrow. "One gate would spell doom for more lives than we can afford to spare in these dark times. This is the Time of Ending, and I'll burn in the warp for eternity if humanity's flame goes out without a struggle."

"'A struggle'?" Logan repeated. "Is that what you call the amount of lives we just wasted?"

"There is a fine line between wasting and spending, Logan." Aracio said, very serious now. "There is always an intergalactic threat, a ripple in space that extinguishes suns, an ancient enemy stripping worlds of life. It's the sacrifices made by the very heroes who make up the stuff of legend and many more heroes whose names are never even remembered that we're able to continue scraping by as we have done for the past forty thousand years. The men that accompanied us today, may their souls be forever blessed by the Emperor, cannot see the difference between my actions and those of heresy. They'd have seen my work as that of the daemonic, and have condemned me for even attempting what I completed. But you see it, don't you?"

He looked out the ship as it flew over the landscape. "I've taken one of the Imperium's greatest threats and pulled it into the very warp itself, along with the gate. Who knows how much more of the swarm will continue passing through this location in space, continue to funnel forces to a place they can't harm us any more, all the while buying us time as the daemons recuperate after every conflict with them."

Logan stared at him, beginning to see a rough connection between all the dots. "If they could only _see_!" He muttered, balling his hands into fists. "Through these brave soul's actions and sacrifices, I have spared the Imperium incalculable millions of guard, untold chapters and chapter's worth of marines, countless hundreds of assassins; all free to now spend their lives in efforts elsewhere in the universe. What price is a handful of each in sight of the big picture…?"

"Inquisitor, there are Imperial forces on the land ahead of us fighting off Tyranid. Shall we engage?" The cool voice of the pilot asked.

There was a moment of silence, then "Negative, navigator. Continue on course as planned." Inquisitor Aracio looked out the hatch as it began to slowly close. There were wrecked vehicles along a path far below, on top of which the imperial forces were besieged by an impossible number of aliens. It seemed the swarm from the horizon had finally caught up with them.

"I have come too far, accomplished too much, and have so much more left to do for mankind before my life is finished." Aracio justified to himself, jaw clenched as he watched the fighting shrink away. "And I will not have my purpose undermined by a single unit of power-armored boy scouts, eager to explain my actions before a bureaucracy."

Logan coughed quietly. Aracio looked to him and he jerked his head towards the servitor, going through parchment by the pound.

Aracio nodded, standing and clasping a hand to Logan's shoulder. "I think you and I will have many missions together."

He walked the servitor to the edge of the ramp before it closed and gave it a shove. The only way to keep his position to help mankind was to make sure word of his "unorthodox" methods never reached the people who couldn't understand him, people who couldn't see the big picture.

"I'm not wrong… I'm not." Aracio whispered to himself, closing his eyes. "They may call me a monster, but I'm the only one who will do as he must… What he must, to save numbers of lives no one could even imagine, through those saved and future generations." He folded his arms to himself, staring at the now closed doors.

"Exitus acta probat."

* * *

**In memory of Nikko B.**

"**Judge a man not by his worth but his actions."**


End file.
